


Forget Me Not

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Kidnapping, M/M, Seduction, Self-Harm, Stalking, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a fill for the Star Trek: Into Darkness Kink Meme.</p><p>AU to Star Trek: Into Darkness.</p><p>Khan kidnaps Kirk and makes him a pretty bird in a gilded cage. Kirk wants the torture to end... and it does, when he loses his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim slammed the glass down onto the counter, whilst making a show of swallowing his last mouthful of Andorian Ale. His eyes had taken on a drunken glaze, and his words were a little slurred when he said, “One more.”

“Nah, buddy. I think that it’s about time that I cut you off.” The bartender said. Jim frowned. He wasn’t used to being told ‘no’. At Jim’s sullen look, the bartender added, “Look, I can find someone to take you home, if you want.”

“What home?” Jim asked dully. His home was on the USS Enterprise, and he’d recently been demoted.

Demoted. That was such a cruel word. He was being punished for making the right call – Spock was a damn good officer, not to mention his best friend, and he wasn’t about to let the Vulcan needlessly sacrifice himself when there was so much to live for. And what did he get in return for his good deed? A stern lecture from Pike and a demotion. A demotion that he should be happy about. What a load of bull. There was no reason to be happy about this.

They’d taken the Enterprise from him, taken his family from him… All he had left in this world was a crappy old apartment and the knowledge that he hadn’t been fired for royally screwing up – again. The bartender was still eyeing him sympathetically, which only seemed to make matters worse. He really wished that he could have another drink. He wanted to drink until he couldn’t see straight, so then he wouldn’t have to see that pathetic look  
.  
“I’ll have a glass of Tulaberry wine… and he’ll have another Andorian Ale.” A smooth, husky voice came from over his shoulder, and before Jim really realized what was happening, a tall raven claimed Pike’s vacated seat.

“I’m very sorry, sir, but he’s already reached his limit -,” the bartender suddenly cut off as the handsome stranger slid the equivalent of one-hundred dollars earth currency across the counter. “Right away, sir.”

Seconds later, their drinks arrived. Jim took a long sip of his, before offering a meek, “Thanks.”

The handsome stranger smiled, “Not a problem. You looked as if you needed something to drown your sorrows.”

Jim’s eyes darkened and he swished the drink around in his glass, “Yeah. I suppose you could say that.”

“Care to share?” He asked kindly, one eyebrow raised.

Cautious blue eyes flickered up to the man’s face, momentarily meeting blue eyes not too unlike his own, before Jim said, “I’m not sure that I should.”

That smile returned, causing Jim’s heart to flutter. He liked it when this man smiled. “You can trust me.” He took a tentative sip of his own drink, before adding, “I promise that I don’t bite.”

“Aww, what a shame.” Jim smirked. His musings drew a loud laugh out of his companion.

So, Jim told him. He knew that it was probably against regulations to disclose so much information about Starfleet to a mere citizen, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less. He was still in shock from the entire situation and maybe even a little resentful – not that he would ever admit to that aloud. The man was listening intently. He slowly nursed his drink, never allowing his striking blue eyes to stray from Jim’s face.

Once Jim finished, the man offered, “I never did understand that rule. It seemed so foolish. But then again, it often seems like the essence of Starfleet is foolish rules made up by foolish people.”

“You work for Starfleet?” Jim’s interest was piqued now.

“Worked.” The man corrected. “We had some… differences of opinion. My crew and I run a solo operation, now.”

“Oh?” Jim couldn’t help but press a little harder. After all, he had shared his story with this man, so it was only fair that he do the same, right?

“We’re colonizing a planet.” He said, but seemed unwilling to say more. Come to think of it, Jim had heard something about that… but he’d skimmed over the paperwork and couldn’t remember the details.

“That sounds fascinating.” Way to steal one out of Spock’s book, Kirk mentally chastised himself.

“Oh, it is. Never a dull moment.” The sarcasm in his tone was thick. “The name’s John Harrison.”

When John extended his hand, Jim eagerly took it. He liked this ‘John’ character. He certainly was different than the usual bar patrons Jim encountered over the years. “Jim. Jim Kirk.”

John’s handshake was strong and firm, just like Jim imagined his body would be like. His outfit certainly didn’t leave much to the imagination – clad in a form-fitting black long-sleeve shirt and tight black pants, he looked more like a criminal than a former Starfleet officer. John was the first to retract his hand, waving the bartender over and ordering them another round of drinks. Jim felt more sober than he had in hours.

They talked for a little while longer about John’s association with Starfleet, but whenever Jim came close to mentioning the planet that he and his crew were ‘colonizing’, John became oddly tight-lipped and anxious to steer the conversation in a different direction. Otherwise, Jim found John incredibly easy to talk to. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and when the music changed to a slower number, Jim took hold of John’s hand.

“Care to dance?” He asked. John nodded, and so Jim led him out into the mass of grinding bodies. Somehow, their hands managed to remain connected the entire time.

Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and that was with their clothes on. John’s hand slinked around Jim’s lithe waist, pulling him taut against his muscled body, and he expertly led them around the floor in a dance that had no name. The combination of alcohol and the feel of John’s body against his was doing naughty things to Jim’s mind, and before he knew it, they were kissing.

Strong, lithe bodies were rubbing up against each other, each desperate for more than the simple touch of the other. Suddenly, Jim’s back met a brick wall, and John’s fingers were inching up under his black shirt. The man’s touch alone left trickles of electricity flowing through Jim’s body. John’s lips latched onto Jim’s neck, his tongue dancing tantalizing circles around his artery. Jim only barely had the wherewithal to remember they were still in the bar.

“Wait -,” he pulled back for a second, anxious to calm his breathing. John was staring into his eyes again, his pupils heavily dilated, but his breathing surprisingly even. “We should really take this back to my apartment.”

That smile returned, and John raised his hand, showing Jim the keys that he had taken from the bartender. Jim vaguely remembered the bartender asking for them when he hit his third drink. “I’ll drive.”

Jim was just barely able to offer a weak, “Okay” before he was being dragged out of the bar.

\--

Jim was suddenly down on the bed, bereft of his shirt. Strong, nimble hands were working on his belt, and once it was unlatched, his pants were unbuttoned, unzipped, discarded. He was suddenly thankful that he hadn’t worn any underwear. John raised an eyebrow at this, but Jim simply shrugged. This was no time to talk about small matters like underwear. John seemed to understand that as well, because he moved up to settle between Jim’s legs.

He leaned down, desperately connecting their mouths in a violent clash of teeth and tongues. Jim could taste blood, but was too occupied by one of John’s wayward hands, which was trailing down and cupping his rock-hard cock, to really care about it. John’s hands were absolutely lethal, drawing up and down his manhood in quick strokes, occasionally dragging his thumbnail over the leaking slit. Jim threw his head back, momentarily breaking the kiss.

Seizing the opportunity, John started to trail kissed down Jim’s strong jaw, nipping at the delectably salty flesh and raising soft, pink bruises on the delicate flesh. Finally, he latched onto the sensitive juncture between Jim’s neck and shoulder, drawing it between his lips whilst making the most obscene sucking sounds. As he continued his hand job, the other hand started to trace wet circles (when did he wet his hand?) around Jim’s nipple.

Suddenly, Jim flipped them around so that he was on top, seated on John’s still-clothed hips. To his credit, he didn’t miss a beat with the hand-job, continuing to worship Jim’s manhood with fervor. “This isn’t fair.”

John looked up at Jim with half-lidded eyes, giving a particularly forceful tug on Jim’s cock. Jim let out such a pretty moan, mumbling a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath. “What isn’t fair?”

“The fact that you’re – oh, God… fuck, that’s good – still fully clothed, and I’m entirely naked.” Jim forced out.

John smirked. His hand left Jim’s cock, much to the blond’s chagrin, and he raised his hands in the air temptingly. “Well, then, why don’t we fix that?”

Jim was quick to obey. Without a second thought, he grabbed John’s shirt and tugged it over his head. Instantly, he was met with a seemingly endless expanse of alabaster flesh. He stared at it, letting out a breathy moan, “Fuck.”

“Like what you see?” John teased.

“That would be a severe understatement.”

Jim leaned down, leaving a trail of white-hot kisses down John’s creamy neck, before laving a trail down his chest, pausing for mere seconds to worship each nipple into hardness, before continuing down, dipping his tongue into John’s belly button, and finally, ending at the waist-band of his pants. Eyes glinting mischievously, he simply undid the taller man’s pants and pulled them down, along with his underwear, just enough to reveal his leaking cock.

Jim licked his lips hungrily. John was huge. But before he could do much anything about this recently acquired knowledge, John flipped them over again and spread Jim’s legs. “What the -,”

But John was already sinking into Jim’s tight, hot channel, causing Jim’s words to break off into an incomprehensible moan. John smirked. “I see that you are oh so eloquent today.”

“Shut u-ah!” The moan choked off into a scream of pleasure as John bottomed out, stretching Jim dry.

“Maybe it’s just best if you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, huh?” John’s smirk grew dark and lusty. “I want to hear you scream, pretty boy.”

Slowly, he drew out, angled his hips a little differently, and then slammed back in, hitting Jim’s prostate dead-on. Bright yellow stars danced before Jim’s eyes, and everything else went blank. “John… John!”

John leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on Jim’s swollen lips. “That’s better.”

He picks up one of Jim’s legs, wanting to get a better angle at his prostate. It worked. Jim was thrashing on the bed, his head thrown back and his mouth open in such a perfect display of absolute pleasure. John works into his body at a steady pace, driving Jim further and further into the mattress. The wet slap of skin on skin permeated the air, and Jim could hear his mattress creaking and the headboard crashing into the wall. Soon, they’d wake the neighbors.

Finally, John’s hand snakes between them and John’s working magic with his hand again. It works over his cock in short, fast strokes that match the pace of his hips. And suddenly, all Jim can see is white. His channel spasms around John’s cock and his body stiffens as he cums. Thick ropes of sticky white essence coat John’s chest and Jim’s nether regions. When he finished, he collapsed against the bed. Mere seconds later, John stilled, finishing off inside him.

After taking a few seconds to catch his breath, John pulled out and fell back down onto the bed, pulling a languid, blissed-out Jim down beside him. He placed a soft kiss onto Jim’s forehead. “Goodnight, Jim.”

Jim couldn’t help but smile. “Goodnight, John.”

\--

Jim threw his arm over the side of the bed, expecting to hit a warm body… but instead, he hit nothing but sheet. He frowned, opening his eyes and indeed confirming that, other than himself, the bed was empty. That was a shame. He’d hoped that this one would stick around, he seemed like a halfway decent guy… and he was an excellent lay. He rolled into the middle of the bed, laying his head back down on the pillow. He was about to fall asleep, when…

A loud click, like the closing of a lock on a suitcase, filled the room. Jim frowned, opening his eyes again. John was taking things out of his closet and stuffing them into his various suitcases. “What are you doing, John?”


	2. Chapter Two

For a moment, there was silence. Thinking that John had not heard him, Jim repeated the question, his tone a bit firmer now as he slowly got his wits about him. “What are you doing, John?”

“Pity.” John murmured, rolling his eyes. “And here I thought that this would be easy.” 

Securing the last suitcase, he moved it over by the door. There were three in total - it seemed like such a measly number to hold all of the items he’d accumulated in four years living on his own. “What?”

Jim watched uneasily as John turned around, pulling a hypo out of his coat pocket. “I want you to know that I deeply regret what is about to transpire, Jim. Things would’ve been much simpler if you would’ve stayed asleep.”

It was only then that the truth began to surface through the haze of sleep and alcohol that clung like a film to his brain. He was royally fucked. “What the hell -,”

He tried to move, but the alcohol had messed with his reflexes, and his movements were sluggish and disoriented. He ended up tangled in the blankets, the perfect prey for the patient predator. John crossed the room with a smooth, confident stride, dull blue eyes locked with Jim’s panicked lighter blue. And then, reaching out, he knotted his fingers in Jim’s dirty blond hair and pulled him back to the right side of the bed. Jim managed a quick kick, hitting the solid flesh of John’s thigh. White-hot pain flared up the left side of his body and he had a feeling it hurt him more than it hurt John.

He felt the hypo bite into the flesh of his upper arm. The fingers slowly loosened in his hair as the plunger forced the serum into his body, and when the hypo fell to the floor with a soft clack,  they released him entirely. For one terrifying moment, Jim worried that he’d just been injected with poison. But if he’d truly wanted to kill him, why didn’t he just slip something into his drink the night before? No, he didn’t want to kill him. No, Jim had a feeling that what John wanted was much worse. Jim’s suspicions were confirmed when he turned his back on him then, returning his attention to the suitcases.

“The sedative should take effect in about five minutes. I would’ve chosen to inject it in your vein, but I wanted you awake to hear this. You will be coming with me. Dissent is not an option.” John said.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He slurred. Perhaps the sedative was taking effect faster than John had originally thought.

“Because I want you.” The blunt answer was unexpected, and it caused Jim to immediately fall silent. “And this time, I’m getting what I want.”

He could barely keep his eyes open at this point, and was silently cursing his stupidity - hadn’t Pike always warned him about taking home ‘handsome strangers’ from bars? “John -,”

“My name isn’t John.” He said, his tone flat and cold.

Then, ‘John’ took his leave, taking the three suitcases with him. Jim was struggling to remain conscious, his mind in a vicious state of disarray as panic fought against the effects of the sedative. ‘John’ returned a moment later, now empty-handed.  Jim, now on the losing end of his battle, barely felt arms enclosing around him, lifting him up out of the bed, wrapping him in the thin white sheet, and tossing him over his shoulder.  The vicious jarring of his body aggravated his hangover, and, when mixed with the effects of the sedative, it rendered him unconscious almost immediately. 

\--

****

When Jim awoke, suffering from the mother of all headaches, he remembered exactly why he’d sworn off the bottle months before…

****

And then, he realized where he was. Or, to be more exact, that he hadn’t the slightest as to where he was. Currently, he was swimming in the middle of a king-sized bed, dressed only in a pair of loose black pajama bottoms. A wrinkled white sheet was draped lightly over his body, and he kicked it off agitatedly. Forcing himself to sit up slowly, he inspected the room with a critical eye and realized, with a sinking in his gut, that it most certainly was not his own. Everything was too pristine and, well, too expensive to belong to him. Confused, he made to stand, slipping off of the bed and pausing momentarily on the plush purple carpet.

****

The room itself was easily the size of his studio apartment back home. To the right, a large window took up the entire wall. Heavy lavender curtains, with a beautiful golden hem, were drawn tight. Behind him was the bed, with an end-table on either side. The end-table on the right side of the bed had a wooden clock and a fresh glass of water on it, and the one on the left had a multi-colored rose permanently suspended in a glass cage.  On the opposite wall, there was a dresser, a desk, a PADD, and a bookcase. And in the middle of the room, there was a dining table set for two. But none of this answered his most basic question - where was he?

****

Shuffling across the floor, he reached out and took hold of the curtains, pulling them aside to reveal… darkness. An endless ebony expanse unfolded before him, dotted by the light of the occasional star. From the window, he could see part of the spacecraft, which looked like it housed the bridge. So, it hadn’t been a dream. He really had been kidnapped by this ‘John’, who apparently really wasn’t ‘John’ at all. He’d been drugged and dragged out of his home, and was now aboard a spacecraft that was destined for who knows where. Could things get any more fucked up?

****

Turning around, he tried for the door. A trial twist of the knob found it to be locked, and the touch-screen pad next to the door indicated that he would need an override code to unlock it. Apparently, his earlier question had tempted fate, because things had become infinitely worse. It wasn’t enough that he was on an unfamiliar ship, no, apparently he also had to be locked in as well. He slammed a fist down on the surface of the door, anger manifesting in that short burst of violence. He quickly deflated, however, realizing that the wasted energy would get him nowhere. Instead, he turned his attention to the clothes laid out at the foot of the bed. And next to the clothing, there was a note.

****

Jim,

****

My sincerest apologies that I was not able to remain with you until you awoke, but there was a great deal of business that needed attending to. I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me.

****

It is my intention to join you for dinner tonight. I will knock three times, and should you not answer, I will merely assume that you are still resting and postpone my dinner plans. It is my preference that you would be dressed for dinner, but seeing as I cannot guarantee when you will be receiving this note, I will understand the circumstances regardless. 

****

Sincerely,

****

The Captain

****

And then, as if cued, there were three knocks on the door. And it was then that his earlier question was answered - things could get worse. Much worse. 

****  
**   
**


End file.
